"From the Peninsula you cannot imagine it": say the neighbors of the overflowing Ceuta

Ceuta"If you don't live it, it's very difficult to understand. From the Peninsula you can't imagine what this month has been like," explains the security guard of a large supermarket in Ceuta. A month later, there are still hundreds of people who have nowhere to go, wander aimlessly through the city, and eat, sleep, and relieve themselves in the street, even though many migrants have returned to Morocco and many others are already sleeping in emergency shelters. This fully affects the daily lives of the city's residents, a population that is increasingly tense, as they are the ones responding to the day-to-day crisis. Whether by getting involved in caring for these people or by going to work at the supermarket, restaurant, or mobile phone store. Therefore, no matter who you ask about the management of the administrations, everyone talks about abandonment.

For weeks, there has been a miserable, never-ending queue at the supermarkets in Ceuta. Two soldiers let dozens of people, who are crowded at the doors to buy something to stave off hunger for a few hours, pass through, two by two or in small groups. The supermarket manager, who does not want her name or the company she works for to be revealed, is fed up, exhausted, and increasingly angry. "Yes, poor things, but what about my children? They haven't left the house for a month." Migrants who cannot get in sleep all night in front of the premises to have better luck the next day, forcing workers to arrive earlier at work to ensure everyone can buy normally, an extra effort that is becoming more arduous every day and has been going on for too long.

This drip-feed entry system is a drastic measure for an exceptional situation that has ceased to be so, entrenched in the city for a month. Ceuta has a number of supermarkets designed to serve its citizens, but in the last month they have had to adapt hastily to the needs of thousands of newcomers. In just two days, the city's population practically doubled; half had nowhere to sleep and lived on the street, but everyone was hungry. To ensure that residents could continue with their lives, this provisional system was devised so that food establishments would not collapse. But what was supposed to be a temporary measure is still part of the reality for Ceutans and migrants.

The most repeated request among young people struggling in the city is food. Nordin is the owner of La Alhambra, an iconic cafe located on Gran Vía de Ceuta, one of its main arteries. When the ARA attends him, the place is packed: waiters come and go, and when a table becomes free, someone else quickly sits down. "It's an Arab cafe, I sell typical products, I opened it more than 30 years ago and it's doing very well," he explains. Although it continues to have a lot of demand, he says that he has noticed the impact of the migratory crisis of the last month, especially from people who come to ask for water and food. "We are human beings. We have to be understanding. We have to know what hunger is and what thirst is," says Nordin, who explains that he has helped whoever he could by distributing leftovers from the cafe.

Flags of Spain and mobile phones

But the impact of the migratory crisis goes beyond food stores: it affects all the city's commerce. "We've suffered a brutal drop in sales. People are scared, they don't go out on the street, it has affected us psychologically," explains Noori, the manager of Rudra, a shop specializing in fashion and jewelry located in the center of Ceuta, which now also sells Spanish flags. She explains that there is a high demand for flags in the city because everyone wants to be adorned with the colors of the State at demonstrations against the presence of migrants. She says that in the last month it has been the best seller by far.

Noori has pepper spray behind the counter because she doesn't feel safe, and she has changed the shop's opening hours to close earlier, but she can't afford not to open because she has expenses she has to cover no matter what. "Who covers my expenses if I don't open? Who pays my rent? Nobody. I'm forced to open even though I feel unsafe," she complains.

The generalized feeling among the city's residents and merchants is the same as hers: they believe the Spanish government has abandoned them with the worst migratory crisis in recent years. Noori is clear that, in another context, she would have sold everything now that she's having a liquidation sale. Instead, she says she has sold 70% less than in a normal summer, and she is convinced she won't be able to liquidate all her stock before the season ends.

While she has sold practically nothing and has had to reinvent herself with flags, Sara explains that she hasn't stopped. She works at HardMovil, a store specializing in mobile phones, one of the few that do repairs in the city. Many of the people who arrived in Ceuta swimming have gone there to try to get their phones repaired, damaged while crossing the border, or to buy a new one to communicate with family and friends.

"It has been a very tough month, hundreds of people have come for us to fix their phones. The vast majority had gotten wet and there was nothing that could be done about it," she explains. She is very tired and has been very nervous, especially at the beginning. There were days when, just as she wanted to close, young people would enter the shop from under the rolling door and, since she couldn't kick them out, she would end up serving them. "These have been very tough days, we haven't stopped," she repeats. Many of the migrants are in a hurry to contact their families to reassure them; at least about 140 people have died in this crisis. "There are sectors that have been negatively affected by all of this. That's not our case, but anyway, these have been very tough days," Sara insists.

"Anyone you ask will tell you that we are abandoned"

All of this is causing increasing tension among citizens. Nordin asks people to be patient. "And look after each other," he concludes, as a flood of people with Spanish flags heads towards the day's first demonstration. Despite his plea, after a month of political inaction, many people in the city are fed up. Sora, for example, who has been selling souvenirs and leather goods for three decades, is closing her shop for the first time for security reasons. "There are days I don't open, I don't even leave the house," explains this Muslim woman, a lifelong resident.

Like most of those interviewed, Sora believes the Spanish government has done a "terrible job," and thinks "they should have been kicked out as soon as they arrived." At the mobile phone shop, Sara also explains that the neighbors are affected. She has a young daughter, and this August they haven't gone to the park or the beach due to fear. "Anyone you ask will tell you we are abandoned, it's been a month and there's no solution," she maintains. She is also Muslim and has watched with concern the direction some demonstrations have taken, ending in violent attacks against the migrant population.

This Wednesday is Ceuta Day, and more demonstrations than usual are expected, as there are protests every day. People can be seen in the streets with Spanish flags in their hands or tied around their necks at all times. Noori has sold some of them. While she's attending to ARA, two women enter her shop. "Do you also have Ceuta flags?" "No, I'm sorry. But Ceuta bracelets, yes." The shopkeeper explains that suppliers are overwhelmed and cannot supply all the shops in the city. The potential customers leave, and Noori regrets another sale missed this August. Prospects for the next season are not much better.